


In the Darkness (I See You)

by Therapeutic_Steter



Series: Prompt Fics [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha!Peter, BAMF Stiles, M/M, Magic!Stiles, Murder Husbands, Scott is a Bad Friend, Stiles is Peters Pack, blind!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 12:10:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12387798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Therapeutic_Steter/pseuds/Therapeutic_Steter
Summary: platypusesrneat asked: What if, during a rogue alpha attack, Stiles was injured and lost his sight. He becomes really depressed, and nobody but Peter seems to know how to help him. after Stiles transitions with Peter's help, Stiles uses his magic to help Peter take revenge on Kate. sort of like murder husbands ig? thanks, your writing is fantastic!





	In the Darkness (I See You)

Footsteps echoed like ripples in his mind’s eyes, tinted red for the Alpha they represented. His magic tingled up his spine as they neared but he didn’t fear.

“Peter.”

“Stiles,” Peter purred, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around Stiles’ middle. He leaned back into the Alpha’s arms, humming thoughtfully.

“A little birdy told me where we might be able to go jaguar hunting,” Peter said, warm breath caressing the bare skin of Stiles’ neck.

“Oh?’ Stiles asked, tilting his head just a bit more, baring the vulnerable flesh to the dangerous creature wrapped around him. “Well I guess it’d be rude if we didn’t stop by for a visit.”

Peter chuckled darkly. “My thoughts exactly, dearest.”

Stiles grinned, the scar across his face itching at the mention of the woman, their prey.

“Let’s go hunting.”

…

It should’ve been just a routine set-up. Wards were tripped, an omega was running loose, mucking up their system.

Scott liked to play good cop while Stiles would run in behind him, cleaning up the messes Scott didn’t want to see left behind. Scott was the hero, the do-gooder; Stiles was just the side-kick, the back-up. The human. Even when he’d started learning magic, Scott had still mitigated him to the background, left him hanging on pack runs, kept him out of pack meetings on the new Big Bads. It hurt, but Stiles was a fighter and he’d protect his Pack, even if they were being major douche-nozzles.

But it was supposed to be an omega. Just a lone omega.

Peter and Stiles often got paired up by default when it came to the buddy system that Scott had employed. Stiles due to his cursed fragile humanity and Peter due to his untrustworthiness. They had a good system at this point though, Peter taking point, Stiles following his footsteps to avoid making too much noise. He’d keep the chatter to the minimum until they were on the way back and Peter would humor him with a few tidbits of information Stiles wouldn’t have been able to find anywhere else. They’d banter and snark, and when push came to shove, Stiles would trust Peter at his back.

When the rogue wolf crashed through the foliage, eyes a bloody red and form some deformed monstrous thing that made Peter’s previous Alpha form look cute, Stiles froze.

It was supposed to be an omega.

The Alpha locked onto the human, scenting his vulnerability, and the need for Pack burned through it. It roared, lunging towards the boy who barely had time to duck with a terrified yelp. Peter answered its challenge with a roar of his own, slamming into its side and digging his claws deep into it’s chest. The Alpha threw him into a tree, eyes instantly landing back on Stiles’ form as it reached for him, crazed desperation and fury practically dripping from it. It swiped at the boy, trying to drag him closer, and Stiles screamed as sharp claws raked across his face.

Then everything went black.

…

It was only after he woke in the hospital that he learned Peter had went into complete berserk mode, tearing into the Alpha until there was nothing left. Then he’d rushed Stiles to the hospital and remained at his side. Scott had apparently found some way to blame the entire ordeal on Peter, saying the man had plotted this just to get the Alpha power back, just to challenge him for the Hale land again. Stiles’ dad quietly told him that Peter had nearly spat in Scott’s face, told him to get off his paranoid high-horse and quit worrying about his delusions when he should be concerned about Stiles. It had won the man some serious bonus points with the Sheriff, if no one else.

It was also after all of this that he learned the real one behind sending that rogue Alpha their way.

“Kate Argent’s still alive?” Stiles asked, still not used to speaking and not being able to see the one he was speaking to. He was more reliant on hearing and touch to determine a person’s whereabouts now, though his magic could help him somewhat. Peter had taken to always be touching some part of him whenever he was in the room so Stiles wouldn’t have to search for him.

“Apparently Chris hasn’t been fruitful in his hunt,” Peter growled, sneer evident in his tone.

“Hm,” Stiles hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe…he needs some help?” he offered.

Peter was still at his side before his fingers gently started caressing Stiles’ wrist. “Maybe. Once you’re able to fight.”

Stiles’ grin was a nasty, dark thing. Vicious and cold. Merciless.

…

It didn’t hit Stiles on all he’d lost until he was released from the hospital.

He couldn’t drive himself anymore. He couldn’t watch TV. He couldn’t play video games. He couldn’t read. He couldn’t use his phone. He couldn’t even cook for himself.

“Ahhhh!” Stiles screamed, falling to the floor in defeat in the kitchen. His eyes may not work anymore, but they were sure prickling with the familiar sting of tears. He sniffled pathetically, curling up on the floor in the middle of spilled milk where he’d been trying to pour himself a cup to drink. Stupid thing had toppled over and now it was everywhere, not that he could see it to clean it up.

“Oh, Stiles.”

Stiles jumped at the sudden voice before crying even harder. He couldn’t see anyone coming. Every noise startled him. He was useless now, even less than useless. He used to be the research guy, but how he could research when he couldn’t read?

“I just wanted something to drink,” he mumbled pathetically, hearing Peter pick up the cup and milk before stepping through the puddle to help Stiles up. “I’m so pathetic.”

“No, no, never,” Peter soothed, hugging him close, not seeming to mind that he was damp. Stiles buried his face in Peter’s neck, closing his eyes and pretending it was his decision that everything was dark and that all he had to do was open them and he’d be able to see again.

“How can you say that?” Stiles cried, pushing him away. “I can’t do anything! I’m worthless! I can’t read, can’t research, can’t help hunt, can’t keep watch. What good am I to the Pack now? What can I bring to the table?”

“Stiles, you are brilliant, loyal, fierce, cunning, and stubborn as anyone,” Peter began, cutting off his rant of self-pity. His hands were gentle as he framed Stiles’ face, holding him steady. “Everything’s hard right now because it’s new, but you will adapt. You are strong, so very strong, sweetheart. Never doubt that. Right now you just have to take little steps and soon you’ll look back and realize you’ve walked miles.”

Stiles hiccupped, wiping his face off. “You really think so?” His voice was weak, tentative.

“I know so,” Peter vowed. His was steady, sure. It gave Stiles confidence. It gave him an anchor.

…

“The level of determination at which you have to give me a heart attack is quite impressive.”

Stiles smirked in the direction of Peter’s voice, maintaining the spell just for a few more minutes before letting the lightning cease crackling between his fingers.

“Cool, huh?” he bragged.

“Maybe,” Peter relented. “But I’m more concerned with your spatial awareness spells.”

Stiles waved him off, a fluttering of sparks erupting from his fingertips which Peter watched worryingly. Thankfully they went out before hitting the carpet.

“I’m going to be like Daredevil, man. Use echo location and shit. I’m going to be a badass.”

Peter rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Whatever made it easier for Stiles to cope, he guess. They still had bad days, but this was much better than it had been.

Peter wasn’t sure what the official story that was released was, but he did know the Sheriff had pulled Stiles from school and the boy was now taking all online classes through a webcam with speakers. He also knew that none of Stiles friends had been by beyond the first few ‘How are you holding up?’ visits, which he knew the boy tried to hide how much that hurt him. Scott hadn’t even made the effort since the boy had been home; he’d only came once when Stiles was in the hospital, which was the time Peter kindly chewed him out for having his priorities wrong. Peter hadn’t seen or smelled him anywhere near Stiles since.

“I can hear that epic eye-roll, dude,” Stiles accused, but he was smirking. “Oh ye of little faith.” Then he stepped heavily, humming in concentration before he walked around the table casually, slipping around the chair without touching it and finally resting his hand on Peter’s shoulder. He grinned at the other man, his sightless eyes staring just a few inches to the right of Peter’s.

Peter returned the grin, only just managing to keep from kissing him. _In due time_ , he promised himself.

…

Kate laughed maliciously. “Oh, this is just cute. Did the doggie think to come after me again? Your first two tries didn’t work, so now you want another go?” She sneered nastily at Peter, gun leveled with Peter’s chest even as her eyes flared a supernatural green.

Peter grinned just as spitefully. “You made quite the mistake, sending that Alpha to Beacon Hills.”

Kate quirked a brow. “Oh? Why? Did it kill off the rest of the Hale line? About damn time, if you ask me.” She smirked victoriously.

“Oh no, it didn’t kill anyone,” Peter corrected, his own grin growing when she pouted disappointedly. “But you certainly made an enemy. One even greater than myself, if I must admit.”

Kate’s nose scrunched in confusion and her shift flickered, fangs lengthening and skin darkening. “Then where is this enemy?” She demanded, voice a deep growl.

“Right here, bitch.”

Kate whirled on the voice, a roar caught in her throat as the oxygen was stolen from her. She choked, reaching around her neck and feeling the pressure but there was nothing physically there. She snarled wordlessly, thrashing against the magic. She focused on the boy in front of her, vaguely recognizing him, although the scar marring his face was new. Three slashes, probably from claws, stretched across his face. His eyes were foggy with blindness but narrowed with hate.

Kate leapt at him, ignoring the lightheadedness as best she could. Peter slammed into her side before she even neared him, roaring in her face, Alpha eyes flaring bright. Kate felt fear well up in her at the sight, remembering how this same creature had brought her down before. Only this time, she knew he would be thorough. There would be no getting away this time.

The magic cutting off her oxygen released and she scrambled away, kicking at the Alpha’s chest wildly and hissing angrily. She yowled when her ankle was grabbed and twisted cruelly, the bones crackling as the Alpha roughly jerked the limb.

She looked around desperately, trying to find her gun, and instead found herself looking at the cold, foggy eyes of the mage. He was looking right at her even though she knew that wasn’t possible; he was clearly blind, there was no way the boy knew where her eyes were.

The boy had a gun in his hand and he raised it, right between her eyes. Kate tried to run only to have the Alpha leap onto her form, claws digging into her skin and muscles and holding her steady.

“Not even going to ask me to apologize this time?” Kate grunted out, staring down the barrel of the gun and jerking against the Alpha’s hold. It only dug his claws in deeper, his teeth near her throat. His growl was like rolling thunder in her ear. “Or are you so far gone you can’t even form words?” She mocked the Alpha. “Leashed by this  _boy_?”

“Hey,” Stiles spoke, earning her attention. “Stop talking.”

The gun’s echo was muted with a silencer, the final shot true. Kate’s body instantly slumped, life gone, but Peter had had her slip away enough. He roared victoriously, claws digging further into her skin and ripping her apart viciously. Stiles listened to the sounds of dismemberment dispassionately, waiting for his wolf to enact his revenge on her pound of flesh.

Peter threw back his head and howled into the night, revenge and fulfillment, despair and loss. Completion.

Stiles stepped forward and grasped Peter’s shoulder, squeezing once. The wolf breathed heavily, slowly pulling his shift back until he stood bare before the boy. He turned, snuffling against Stiles’ neck and gently curling his bloodied hands around his hips.

“It’s over, wolf,” Stiles murmured, hand curling into the hair at Peter’s nape and pulling the man closer.

Peter growled lowly, still non-verbal after having just shifted. Stiles hummed soothingly, slowly running his free hand up and down the other’s back. They’d figure out the next step later; for now, Stiles was happy to just to hold his wolf after a job well done.

**Author's Note:**

> Send me a prompt on [tumblr](https://therapeutic-steter.tumblr.com/)!


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